


Feel the Vibrations

by LibbyWeasley



Series: Just Friends [6]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fitz goes on a date, Friends With Benefits, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Sci-Ops Era (Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.), Vibrators, they were roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-11-06 07:03:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17935091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LibbyWeasley/pseuds/LibbyWeasley
Summary: Doing their best to follow the rules, Fitz goes out on a date to keep their boss from being suspicious about the nature of their relationship, and Jemma stays home...with her vibrator.





	Feel the Vibrations

**Author's Note:**

> A big thank you to @blancasplayground for help with all my words. I don't know what I'd do without her <3

Jemma’s eyes darted towards her bedroom again as Fitz got ready to leave on his date.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” he asked her for what felt like the hundredth time.

“Of course it is. She obviously likes you.” Jemma rolled her eyes thinking about the barista she had given Fitz’s number to, figuring the woman would call Fitz and save Jemma the agony of having to ask someone out herself. It was bad enough contemplating the idea of Fitz going out with another woman, but she couldn’t even fathom having to be the one to go on a date. “She is always making a little heart over the “i” in your name when we order tea.”

Jemma’s heart ached a little. As much as she wanted Fitz home with her, where he belonged really, she didn’t see another way. And it was inevitable that someday their paths would diverge anyway. They couldn’t live and work together forever. She assumed Fitz wanted a wife and a family. Which meant that one day they’d be apart. Just because she was starting to picture herself in that role didn’t mean he thought the same way about her.

“Yeah...but that doesn’t mean I like her.”

“Fitz, you don’t _dislike_ her. It’s just dinner. I’m pretty sure Dr. Marten is asking questions again. On Monday you can tell Matt and Kate about your date. They are such horrible gossips that everyone in the building will know the details before lunch, and then we can focus on more important things, like --.”

“Like finishing the magic window. Yeah, I know.” Fitz turned to face her, pushing his arms through the sleeves of his jacket, and she dragged her eyes up to his face from where they had been lingering on his bum. “How do I look?”

His smile was uncertain and the look he gave her made butterflies flutter around in her stomach. His curls were mostly tame, except for a few that were sticking up in the back. But it was the blue of his shirt bringing out the blue of his eyes that really made her heart pump. He looked so handsome tonight and for a moment she could almost forget that it was for another woman -- a woman she had asked him to take out to dinner so their boss would get off their backs about living together. Sharing him for one meal seemed like a small price to pay for the chance to spend the rest of their time together, but that didn’t make it any easier to actually do it.

“You look handsome, Fitz,” she said softly. Then feeling that might be a bit somber, she teased, “Even if you are a little pasty. Now, just remember what we talked about --”

“Yeah, I’ll remember.”

She reached out to brush an imaginary piece of lint off his shoulder and then smoothed the fabric of his jacket over his arms. She felt the same electricity that had been sparking between them more and more often lately. The ultimatum from their boss, and her subsequent suggestion that they keep their relationship to strictly friends had only increased her need for him. He was almost like an addiction, and now that he was off-limits the temptation just seemed to grow.

They stared at each other for a beat too long, and Jemma watched his throat move as he swallowed, transfixed by the way his body moved.

“I, uh...well.” Fitz cleared his throat. “I should, um, go. You’ll be alright, yeah?”

“Of course,” she said with a nod. “I’m just going to work on the designs you drew up. That way we’ll have more parameters to consider once we get a chance to actually test it on Monday.”

“Don’t work too hard, Simmons,” he said, brushing her hair back and tucking a strand behind her ear.

She had to clench her muscles in order to keep herself from leaning into his touch. It was such a familiar gesture, but in a different context. She was trying hard to keep her distance. And they were so close to their objective after all. She needed to let him go.

Stepping back, she let her thoughts drift to what she knew was waiting for her in her room. That should take the edge off at least. Help her focus. Maybe she would actually get some work done while he was gone.

“I won’t. Bye, Fitz.”

“Bye, Jemma.”

She turned and moved towards her laptop on the kitchen island, breathing a sigh of relief when the door opened and then closed behind him. His use of her first name like that had nearly sent her running after him. She was full of nervous energy and it needed an outlet. Her work had been suffering -- _their_ work had been suffering. She couldn’t think clearly and it made it difficult to work through those tricky problems. Solving the unsolvable was what she did -- what she did with Fitz -- and now it just wasn’t working.

In the weeks since their meeting with Dr. Marten, Jemma’s stress level had been directly correlated with her inability to find release. Fitz wasn’t an option. And she didn’t have an opportunity to take things into her own hands, so to speak, since it felt too weird to do it when he was there. But they were usually at home or at work together. So that was why, as soon as Fitz closed the door behind him, she went straight to her bedroom and pulled out the box buried in the bottom of her closet, neatly tucked behind a row of shoes.

After having experienced Fitz’s hands and mouth on her body, her own fingers felt singularly insufficient for the task. Carefully pulling the packing tape from the box, Jemma’s hand closed around the vibrator she had purchased online. It was supposed to be the best, with multiple settings. The hot pink color was a little off-putting, but as long as it worked she didn’t really care. He should be gone long enough for her to clear her head _and_ get some work done. So win-win really.

With that false sense of positivity, Jemma turned off the overhead light and tugged on the chain of the lamp next to her bed. She supposed the soft glow coming from the lamp should help set the mood, but it didn’t really matter. She took off her clothes until she was left with only her knickers, putting everything neatly into the hamper before settling onto the bed, vibrator in hand.

Her body pulsing with desire, she turned it on to the lowest setting. The vibrations ran through her fingers and up her arm, and her body tensed in anticipation. Letting her eyes drop closed, she tried to decide the best course of action. Her hands moved almost unbidden towards her breasts, one hand rubbing a nipple while the other hand dragged the vibrator across the other nipple. Her biological response was immediate and wetness gathered between her thighs. She exhaled slowly. Fitz had always loved her breasts, teasing her with his hands. And his tongue. Memories of Fitz were burned onto the back of her eyelids. Fitz with hands on her. Fitz dragging his tongue across her nipple until it pebbled and she arched her back to push it more fully into his mouth. Fitz with his head between her thighs…

Her eyes flew open. She wasn’t supposed to be thinking about Fitz. This was just about releasing excess sexual tension.

But her thoughts had been guiding her motions and before she realized it, she had moved the vibrator down her stomach while her other hand pinched at her nipples. She was feeling really close already. Looking down at her body with a critical eye, she watched her muscles twitch as the vibrator moved closer to her goal. Her nipples were pink and standing at attention, her stomach was flat, if not exactly concave, and as the vibrator finally reached her knicker-clad skin, she let out a moan that sounded very wanton to her ears.

Her moans had always mingled with Fitz’s heavy breathing and soft exclamations as she touched him in return. This moan with no response made the room feel empty and lonely, but her body was still responding to the vibrations. Hooking a finger around her knickers, she pulled them to the side and let the vibrator slide through the wetness before moving towards the aching need.

A shiver went through her and she squeezed her eyes closed tightly as she pushed the vibrator directly onto her clit. Her hips bucked against the onslaught of pleasure surging through her tightly bundled nerve endings. She held it in place, bending her knees and pulling her feet towards her so they were braced on the bed. Another moan was torn from her throat as she rocked her hips in rhythm to the fingers tugging at her nipples as she felt herself being pushed higher and higher.

She didn’t care about drawing out the pleasure, she just wanted that moment of release when her muscles pulsed and relaxed. Just a biological process to help her feel calmer. So she pushed the button that would increase the intensity, and the buzz from between her thighs became louder and she started gasping for breath. She tensed her legs and then forced herself to relax, letting her legs fall apart, opening herself more to the vibrations. The sensation was too intense against her clit, the nerves almost overstimulated, so Jemma let the vibrator move lower again, sliding easily over her folds. Her mind wandered, the vibrations less intense, and an image of Fitz with a faceless woman flitted through her thoughts. She suddenly felt much further from her climax. She tried once again to push Fitz from her mind, but it was useless.

Giving it up as a lost cause, Jemma allowed the memories of her nights with Fitz to play in her mind. It was the only thing that was going to get her there anyway. He had been so sweet and gentle the first few times they had been together, making sure to use his mouth and tongue until she lay shaking in his arms. And then the times that hadn’t been so sweet and gentle, when one or the other of them had ended up pushed against the door...or even the time he had pounded into her while she lay on the rug by their front door.

That was it -- the mental image she needed. She pressed the vibrator to her clit again and with the picture of Fitz on top of her, both of them nearly crazy with need, tremors started running through her body. She pulled the vibrator away from her over-sensitive skin and tossed it to the side. Without the vibrations distracting her from the sensation she felt her muscles pulse and relax, and once they had run their course, she let her head fall back to the pillow, body drained of energy and her mind clear for the first time in weeks.

It wasn’t the best orgasm she’d ever had, but it was certainly necessary. A toy couldn’t compete with a flesh and blood man, especially one who knew her so well. But it would do for now.

By the time Fitz texted he was on his way home several hours later, Jemma was settled onto the couch, trying desperately to not look like she was waiting up for him. Her yoga pants and tank top were purposefully casual, and her hair, which had been carefully curled and falling around her shoulders earlier in the day, was twisted up into a messy bun. She thought she looked like someone who had been focused on work. And not someone who had been giving herself an orgasm to memories of her best friend.

But for all she appeared to be the picture of calm and focus, inside her emotions were roiling, her stomach twisted into knots. The effects of her release had been fleeting and the dull ache of desire still pounded inside of her. But even worse, she was stuck again. She had been looking at the same part of Fitz’s design for the magic window for the last 20 minutes. No ideas. No breakthroughs. Nothing. How could she have been so stupid? It wasn’t just sex that had made them so productive. An orgasm was certainly calming, there was ample scientific evidence to support that part of her theory, but it wasn’t enough. It had been Fitz the whole time. Fitz and the way he made her feel. Fitz and the way she felt about him. Calming her mind had worked only because Fitz was the one beside her.

She chewed on her nail, contemplating. She’d just have to come up with some reason for why she hadn’t had time to work on their project. Maybe she could say she had been scrubbing the bathroom all evening. 

But before she could move from her place on the couch, she heard his key in the door and then there he was, right in front of her. The stab of desire that shot straight through her before lodging insistently in her pussy was not unexpected, but still caused her breath to hitch. She _had_ been thinking about him for the better part of the last four hours, but his physical presence was much more stimulating. Composing herself, she smiled as he turned towards her after dropping his keys on the side table closest to the door.

“Hey, Simmons. I wasn’t sure if you’d still be up.”

“Of course. I’m still working.” She gestured vaguely at the laptop, hoping he didn’t ask too many questions since she didn’t have any answers to give him.

Fitz rounded the couch and sat beside her. He seemed to be in a good mood, which made her curious to know how his date was and also dread knowing the answer.

“How was your date?”

“Uh...it was alright.”

“Just alright?”

“Yeah, just alright.” His eyes fixed on her and she could tell he was confused by her line of questioning.

Letting out a sigh, hopefully one that didn’t show her disappointment, she said, “You just seem happy, that’s all.”

He let out a self-deprecating laugh and ran one hand through his hair. “I am happy. Happy to be home.”

Her mouth dropped into an “o” of surprise and she frowned slightly at him.

“Oh, not like that, Simmons. The date was fine. I did everything just like you said.”

“Then --”

“I’m just happy to be home because I’d rather be working on the magic window with you.”

Of course. He’d rather be working than wasting time on a date. That sounded like him at least. Part of her had wished he’d rather be with her, but the rest of her knew that wasn’t what she was supposed to wish for. Just because she was hopelessly in love with him didn’t mean he felt the same way. She had to remember that. No matter how much she wished things were different, she couldn’t make him love her. And she’d much rather have some of him than none of him.

He leaned back on the couch, letting his jacket fall open, and reached one arm across the back of the couch to rest behind her head. If this had been a date she would have thought he was pretending to stretch so he could put his arm around her. But this wasn’t a date. And he certainly didn’t need to pretend with her. So it was likely he really was just stretching his arm.

“So, what are you working on, Simmons?”

“Well,” she started with a sigh, “I have been studying the designs you came up with, trying to figure out which areas we could improve on. It needs to be more flexible...and more portable. Field agents can’t exactly carry a rigid window frame with them, which is what these plans look like right now. But I don’t know what to do next.”

She hadn’t made any progress, but at least sounded like she had actually been working while he had been gone.

Fitz leaned closer to look at her screen and she tried to surreptitiously breathe in his scent, knowing that it might have to fuel more date-night fantasies. But as he came closer the cloying smell of flowery perfume choked her senses.

Coughing, she said, “Fitz, did you roll around in a bed of flowers?”

He moved away slightly, clearly taken aback. 

“No. Oh, that must be Becca’s perfume.” He grabbed his lapel and brought it closer to his nose to sniff at his jacket. “She was cold during dinner so I offered her my jacket.”

Jemma snorted. Fitz was way too chivalrous for his own good. She seriously doubted _Becca_ had gotten cold.

“Becca?”

“Yeah, that’s her name. You didn’t really think it was Barista-at-that-place-we-get-tea-from did you?”

“Of course not. It’s just...it’s just… I don’t know. I’m probably being silly.”

Jemma picked at the seam on her pants and waited for Fitz to say something. Nothing she was trying to say came out right anyway. She knew she sounded jealous and petty, and she really didn’t want to come across that way.

But Fitz didn’t say anything. They just sat beside each other and let the tension grow, too many unsaid things hanging between them. Jemma was tempted to just climb onto his lap and stop talking altogether, but she had some dignity left. Probably.

Eventually Fitz spoke, and his words broke the silence, but didn’t do anything for the way she was feeling.

“She is nice. Really nice.”

Jemma’s stomach clenched. It would figure that Fitz would fall in love with the first woman he dated. They’d probably settle down and have 2.5 children. And he’d leave SHIELD. Leave her.

“But...I’m not going to see her again. We’ll probably have to find another place to get tea. Or just make it ourselves I suppose. No one makes it quite the way you do anyway.”

Jemma turned towards him in confusion.

“But, why? If she is nice--”

She held her breath, wondering if he was going to confess to having some feelings for her. He did say he’d rather be working on their project than out on a date with someone else.

“Oh! Ah, she was too...American.”

Well, that wasn’t quite the same thing, but it was enough for now.

“Take off your jacket. I can’t concentrate with the smell of that perfume.”

Fitz hesitated, but then shrugged out of his jacket, laying it across the chair next to him.

He laid his arm over the back of the couch again and she reveled in his nearness. Turning her focus back to the problem in front of her, she examined the design again.

“I think maybe if we try to use S-band receptors--” Jemma began. 

“Right...that way we don’t have to worry about the limitations of the X-ray, and we could get a lot more flexibility.”

Jemma smiled and let herself drift closer to him again.

“Ugh, Fitz. I can still smell it. Did she rub herself all over you?”

Fitz blushed. “Uh, no. Of course not.”

“She did!”

Jemma started to feel a little sick. He said he wouldn’t see her again, not that they hadn’t kissed...or touched. Oh, god, what if he had sex with her? He had been gone for _four_ hours. They must have done more than eaten dinner. He wasn’t that great at maintaining conversation...at least not with anyone other than her.

“No!” Her eyes flew to his face and she took in his look of panic. “She really didn’t. I didn’t even kiss her goodnight.” 

Jemma looked into his eyes and felt calmer. She could see the fire burning there, but she was suddenly sure it was still for her.

“Maybe you should just take off your shirt then. Just so we can work, of course,” she said lightly. 

Fitz looked at her strangely and then started undoing the buttons. Jemma watched him, biting her bottom lip as his white undershirt came into view. Having an orgasm had been a temporary solution, but now that he was here in front of her, desire thrummed through her incessantly.

“Jemma…”

There it was. Her name again. She forced her attention back to the task at hand.

“But then I don’t know how to embed the receptors into the sheet. I’m stuck.”

She looked up at him through her lashes, trying to gauge his mood. His jaw was tight and she let her eyes travel down his arm. She had to know that he was still hers. The muscles of his arm moved as he shifted and Jemma allowed herself to be drawn towards him. Letting go of all logic and reason, she leaned over to lick his warm skin. It was all Fitz.

“I could help you.”

His words hung in the air between them. She knew what she wanted them to mean, but she wasn’t sure that was what he had actually meant. Nodding her head slowly she tried not to overthink this moment, but it was so hard with him beside her and the air between them crackling.

But then it didn’t matter because his hands were pushing her gently back onto the couch. Her mind went back to the last time they had been in this position, when he had kissed her and marked her body as his. She wanted that again.

He hesitated for a moment, giving her time to say yes or no. But there was no question about what her answer would be. Fitz had gone on a date with whatever-her-name-was and by Monday afternoon no one would think she and Fitz had any interest in each other. So this self-imposed celibacy was completely unnecessary.

“Yes, Fitz. I need you. I can’t --” 

She reached up to tug his face down to hers, their lips seeking each other, as his fingers pulled down the thin fabric of her tank top and his hands closed over her breasts.

This time when she rocked her hips, she was met with his hard length. And when she moaned as his lips closed around her nipple, he growled her name in response.

Maybe they hadn’t actually sorted anything out, but for the moment it didn’t really matter. Because she knew this was going to be a much more satisfying ending.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! And don't worry...there is still more to their story.
> 
> I'd love to hear from you. You can find me on Tumblr/Discord/Pillowfort @LibbyWeasley


End file.
